بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

gonna have to leave it all alone, can't take it with me where i go, doesn't matter how long, i end up walking this road, even if the Sun fades, even if the Moon hides, even if i start to drown, beneath my own tides, can't no body else save my soul. 

wish i could fold my chips, pack up my clothes, gas up the truck, drive anywhere, call it home, leave behind every piece, that i never owned, just one thing, this life: what i never chose. 

whenever it was, i need other than Him, i trip and i fall, over and over, blinded and enthralled, something is missing, maybe my sight, maybe the mind.

no Muse, no sun, no shade, no Gift, the desert is life, but calmness, it reigns. complaints empty, avenues open, uncongested, except by vapors choking, trying and tested. 

no anger, simply disappointment, couldn't reach a beacon, or give a gift, with love, anointed, an oil, a lotion, sought so little, forgot i could not, so became from the heart, disjoined.

walking as automated, learning to like, programming in code, such it is, my thoughts in trans- be-lated, injections of semicolons, from the higher plane, been amputated. 

it is alright, i still breathe, He keeps alive, a choice to vanish, wish i had it, but never materialized. so physical remains, whatever's present, whatever's contrived, to forge ahead, this march of mine, towards the destined End, waiting just outside of time.  

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

Alhamdulillah. Some moments come when He has settled all affairs in the self, both internal and external, and there are no disasters imminent, no matters threatening dissolution.

Hope I can keep this state perpetually, if not always, then at least something He permits me to come back to after every divergence of mine, inshaAllah. 

Neither the past nor the future become overwhelming in such a state, it is simply the calmed focus inside the moment. I distinctly recall it beginning in the following situation: a few days ago I stay up post-Fajr, find some productivity, fulfill some oaths of mine, later in the day a thought occurs to me: "for the love of God, fear Him!". An invitation from within to return emphasis where it belongs, where every shukr is due, and to contain my internal thought/actions within the lens of His vision of me. Alhamdulillah. Too often have I been in the condition of patience lately, without being able or willing to consider shukr/hamd. Granted that is supposed to be the minimum attempt of a slave during difficult times, but the vastness of His gifts to me always looms over the horizon of life, reminding me that being grateful should never be something far off to me. Alhamdulillah, it is easier to be grateful when the hardships are tamed, and most often, in my case this means perceptually, calmed in the mind.

I wait. For all that I seek, for all that I need, I wait. In the meantime, there remains gratitude  for His mercy to continue lighting my path, for His unending guidance and sustaining in spite of me at times wishing the complete opposite.

Now is but the test, Now is not what we deserve, 

once we die, and in the ground are laid,

Then will we find our Judgment,

to see if we were worthy to find
what we all along had chased. 

Exposition

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

Love is neither given nor received, it is simply a state, like the saying, "being in love", or "falling in love". It requires no conditions once in it, has no ending if understood, and needs not even reciprocation for its survival (though that's preferable). 

I've described myself as an ocean many times, such is how I'd describe emotion whose strength taps into the ideal but must contend with the real simultaneously.

Of my beacons, the Moon has long been completely dissolved within my ocean. Inside every atom's trace, there is something lunar present. Even if the clouds are there, even if the Moon's light is obstructed or restrained, and even if the Moon herself decided that it would never shine another speck of light, inside my ocean will remain my Moon's essence. 

You need never speak another word, and what I have felt, and that which I chase, will not change. Long has this place been one of soliloquy, of expression and release, and more rarely, one of actually conveying thought. The silence doesn't truly bother me, and surely it cannot stop me. I have loved, and it remains, and there is a place that I live for which I seek it manifest in. Even if I must, with my Rabb's permission, reconstruct your heart with my own bare hands at your resurrection, then so be it, I would see it done. These words I would bring to life:

"But I’ll get there, God willing. I’ll find it. I’ll be whole again. If not in this life, then in the next." -6/5/18

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

silence is a dagger, that I've long known, so small and unnoticed, strikes without warning, a series of pinpricks, scattered across the soul. but as fortune would have it, you're already forgiven, never a thing you could do, to make me upset at something from you. perhaps it was i who became the villain? some word misspoke, some syllable thoughtlessly given? 

my speech is imperfect, so is my vision, blinded with eyes still seeing, repeatedly trying to see a way past this moment, then He drags me back to my ignorance, a stumble inevitable. maybe, when i'm at my worst, my words, my touch, turn into a plague for those i love most, though such is the case i've long thought, whatever nears me soon turns to ash, possibly thus explaining, how a lover is kept so distant, from those he longs to have. surrounded in blessing, so many reasons for happiness, yet from what i've always needed, i am absent, prevented, restricted, in my own opinion's court, convicted, of being insufficient while plentifully gifted. 

death is my answer, that He'll never give, not until every drop i possess, drips out from arteries within, tried and tested, so thus that it is, for me to be judged, my destiny proven in how i lived, while without love. 

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

withoutness

without my Muse, i am a star without light, a desert absent shade, a cloud without rain, a sky without its night.

would that i sometimes knew how you feel in these passing days, what goes through your mind, so even if i could offer no advice, perhaps at least your burden might be lighter made. 

my Gift is not near, thus do i drown in wave upon wave of need, my ocean's nature becoming the weight, as i struggle to find air, struggle to breathe. 

and where else might this battle lead, if not somehow back to that Heaven, holding within it my Dream? 

shine, dear Muse, keep your thoughts not confined or obtuse, i am but the mirror yours, trying to reflect from within our truth.

Ease

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

It isn't in this life I get to truly be your healer, truly get to give the gift of bliss, that I might erase all the aches, make vanish all the pain. I wish this place were not so full of stress, not so demanding, putting so much pressure, on your vessels and veins, while leaving no outlet for what stays inside upward building. Of every love I may ever know, yours is one that's different from any other, for it's built upon the things none can see, except just our Creator. With you has it always been, things invisible yet still immense, still important, of ideals, of dreams, of love, that which has always mattered most to me, though oft I'm brought down by existing. There was a moment's shock, when you couldn't understand, when I seemed to my mirror, as foreign as the world seems to me, as if for us there was the vast universe in between.

But even if I was last to remain, the last to contain, the memory of my soul's twin, of how things aught to be even if life brings about decay, I could not mind, I would not refrain, from caring, from needing, from wanting, from seeking, inside the end of my afterlife, your hand within my palm, fulfilling my strongest mortal pull, that I could never push aside.

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

even if i've died a thousand times, even if it seems like i've long outlived my life, even if it's only in my mind, even if my beacons had eclipsed, even if their light could not shine, even if my love brought along a knife, even if she had no clue how or why, even if i've long bled, even if i seek the end of time, ...

my only choice, the only one worth making, the sole option there, while I am kept breathing, to love regardless all the pain, that I might find awaiting. people sometimes ask, why I am not well, what makes me sad, how can I convey, the ropes and chains I've so long felt in place, to feeling as I feel, all else seem sane, while only me does this drive mad. I am the most foolish of all fools, that ever lived or sought what others knew, for I try to pay the price, of living as one's self, through all of one's own life. 

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

not as whole as i seem, trying to refrain from display, of all pieces behind the scenes. as much as i love, the dissonance is deep, striking, things for myself i'd never connect, intertwined in a reality manifested, not sure how i evolve next, when shambles is the game board, my queen herself part of the test. half the motivation doesn't extend past duty or obligation, unable to love freely, with disappointment and pain ancient bedfellows oft visiting. how to exist when what i am cannot be made real, when what's seen is just partial or plainly culled from life's most basic meal, no expression for that side of me made shadow and to people simply invisible. i know well ralph ellison's dilemma, his protagonist was one who couldn't fit in society, so he dwelled on the edges, not bothering to deal with the ephemeral. somehow, i need to let everything else be as it is, for myself to just breathe and keep in, everything i long for and chase, even if all beloved life keeps at arm's distance, this maze, continues its winding and wading, through swamps and quicksand pits, my moves limited, checkmate eventual, but for whom the victory? 

Held

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

In my hand, dear wife, you are the blooming rose, growing upon a vine, towards a height, no human knows, though for sure, it is my hope, your petals kiss the sky, and find therein, grown to their fullest, all our dreams and Joy, brought to fullest life. To do no harm, to never hurt, to always ease your road, to never make you feel less, but only instead, to be one that lifts, raises, caresses, holds, kisses, to be one that protects, grows, enriches, nurtures, revives, gives, somewhere inside this string of verbs, the definition, what I might call of love, if pure it remains, untouched by any need of mine from it, so long I remember, that all came from Him, always being as you are, simply my Gift. 

(not quite the) Vampiress

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

Dig deep, my love, into my flesh, sink your teeth, finding the veins, the life of my blood, sharpened fangs, brilliant and white, a hawk come to savor its dove. such is the nature of valentine, to pierce and to suck, feasting on the essence mine, thus may one who cannot feel, feel alive. no shudder, no regret, no longing to change the past, no recreation of her into someone she isn't yet, simply do the bitten find acceptance, for this state is affliction and patience the remedy sounding bitter, but truly sweet if pain loses not its alter ego in pleasure. by His permission, i shall give and i shall give, until my grave is my home, and dust is all that there is, for a body lain but never did it cease, to chase the most epic of dreams, whether with effort meager or magnificent, the Pinnacle it sought, down to the very last drop his heart had to give. 

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

 

spliced

often am I led to silence, and thus spliced in two, a part of me to feel, and a part that knows there’s nothing she can do. Little cuts unintended, expressions unmirrored or unattempted, seems the bleeding is mine, something eternal and unending. But this is not so different than the time that came before, perhaps my sojourn is simply so colored, a brilliant shade of crimson red, hypnotizing in its drip, a guillotine ticking relentless. In these moments most, is the reminder strongest that she is this life’s road, this life’s test, that far ahead awaits my aim, where the ideal thrives both in its giving and its reception. I am absent all regret, simply whelmed by what I cannot express, to she a world away, but hiding as a longing inside the chest. Forgive me my Creator, these times are not so bad, just the battle is within the self, with victory a thing so distant, at times the core freezes long before the ocean dares to melt, so thoughts within remain wisps on a wind unheard and ungiven, sonar without edge or container or detection, silence in essence, its origin a scream borne soundless.

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

i know you're only human, i know you are a test, but that doesn't mean, that I'll love you any less. your smile is my sunlight, if ever was i stuck in darkness, lifting up the veil, between myself and happiness. i wish i would simply call or text, any time i longed to read your words, or hear your voice, but some times i know, for me to wait might be best. if i was that ocean that i claimed to be, i'd not drown you in any of my seas, going slow that first you may learn to swim, and soon enough i hope to dive, deep down inside the soul, where the ideal and real combine, a match and its light. even if i couldn't hear the echoes of your thoughts, or the echoes in your chambers and their heart, rest assured knowing mine are always flowing, seeking in their duas, a road that brings together that which was apart. 

Of Comets and Stars

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

miss her like a comet in the night sky, streaking across all my stars, a tail of portents brimming far and wide, there she was, then I came, too soon had to fly away, can't wrap her up in words, she defies all my description, choosy like a cat when it wants to purr, wish I could at least encapsulate, the memory of my lips atop her skin, such a precious taste, savored bit by bit, as if all the world was but her marinade, she my main course, just waiting for the moment ripe, when beauty manifests in her gourmet. seems so long my wait, but truth is lovers always take the longer road, nothing quite like that touch, when lifelong was the waiting to be whole, so one thing my star I'll always ask, that you're patient and never lose the hope, of union beyond these mortal days, beyond this mortal life, when One become those twinned of soul. 

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

There are a few things I thought should be clarified, as in retrospect some of my recent posts seem too heavily on the downside, which does not reflect the present reality. Much of my recent posting is a cumulative sum of my experiences from the past 3-4 months, with the sharpest moments and memories evoking the strongest internal responses that find their expression in similar language. But right now, the evolution of today that's grown from all of that time, it is quite different.

Human beings often tend to overstate their difficulty, and those like myself, even more so because of the inescapable emotional undercurrents involved. Though the road hasn't been easy with my Gift thus far, there is not a single step of it I would take back or change. Not only is this kind of my own perspective on life, but it finds complete resonance within who she is, such that the sacrifices that may come to bear, do so willingly and with (gradual) acceptance as my Rabb's decree. Words can never justly describe what she means, or what I see in her, or how being around her feels. With her, the poet in me is silenced and the lover brought to life. What this means, I have no idea, but that is what I've observed so far. Perhaps I've spent so long writing of something I sought to find, and now when it's been tasted and held, the words need no longer to be written, becoming manifest before my eyes. This would be a nice change of pace, though I suspect as I grow more accustomed to her and what effect she has on me, the results of that will be too immense for me to not release in words. InshaAllah, this is simply an easing of the road towards my end goal in akhirah, a road less alone and more full of the best kind of company, ameen. 

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

SubhanaAllah, how a few words and a few days change perspective. Not a week ago, it was some deep lesson in continuously giving regardless of what I thought received, and today, something I receive, somewhat unexpectedly, and I'm reminded of an essential lesson that I often forget.

I do not live for today, it is not in this very second that my aims can be found, but rather, I live for Tomorrow. Not just an akhirah beyond (and inclusive of) imagining, but also the more immediate part of the road ahead, maybe some months from now inshaAllah when I can bring my Gift home. What happens in the intermediate time, is not the finding or needing of any fulfillment, but each day closer to that point is another door opened in the seemingly-vast maze of doors towards what I seek. 

Somehow, alhamdulillah, the notion settled in me today that what I look for isn't and can't be found right now, and shouldn't be. Each of these moments is a seed being planted, watered, given as much sun and light as it might need, so that for what lies ahead, I might reap with my Rabb's permission the fruit of what I've sown. I think I placed too much expectation for my Gift to reciprocate as I would right away, as love might expect, but these things don't happen by my timetable, but my understanding. She grows, expresses, in ever more surprising ways, ways that bring their growing pains invariably, but just as well, when there comes a moment we resonate, everything endured is easily accepted and the hope of what is truly sought becomes steeled and firm. 

And of the road when she arrives? A series of challenges I've never known, but just as beautifully coupled with joys made manifest that I've barely begun to fathom. I know less than I think I do, though I don't think I really know anything. Remarkable. How the human being is dwarfed by his own ignorance even if he perceives himself to be not aware of much. Alhamdulillah though, my Rabb continues His support of me, without which I would be nothing nor aim for anything. But, He sustains and so I am kept. 

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

oh my Rabb,

take from me my sadness, my grief, my unfound hope, my unmet need, 

shelter me in Your care, where safe I am, from disappointment, from that which cuts and then bleeds,

oh my Rabb,

so much I must restrain, so much held back, my love and my lust, my heart and my nafs, a pair aligned in one, who once tore them apart, 

at times I have no words, no way to give expression, of pain so deep, it's as if all troubles past, now unwrapped themselves in a single Present, 

oh my Rabb,

what have I learned, what is there still ahead, that You would have me smoulder into ash again and again, and revive me endlessly from the dead?

might not a single cut, clean and straight, be enough to sever me from this overlong fate?

oh my Rabb,

for this fool who seeks, a place a gift a hope, wherein hide all he's ever dreamed, may we shorten the lesson, sharpen the blade, so I need not a million cuts, to be taught the way?

how long I remain, I cannot tell, steady the moment now, but still I might reckon, waiting for me a thousand hells, 

until at last comes Your reprieve, in which Your mercy dwells, so then I can exhale, embraced by Happiness myself.  

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

of all the things being tested in life, it isn't myself that has ever really worried me. the strongest challenge, the most deafening conception, the highest hurdle, it has always been that for the ideals i have to be retained/preserved in the face of time and life and the inevitable tides that they bring. for example, love. to feel it, chase it, give it, express it, even and especially in the absence of its equal return, to try and embody it in its most deserved measure even as the exact opposite might be felt in turn - this is what i attempt to do. and the most beautifully stark irony is that, right now, my Gift cannot yet sense this part of the struggle. no matter what she shows or does not show, no matter if what i find is equivalent to what is given, i intrinsically keep reaching out, keep trying to show her what love is for me. i have feared that there may come a time i cease trying if she couldn't grasp it, that the tides of time might wear down my seeking to build this kind of bridge. inshaAllah i hope that never happens, i would struggle to be me even if it never found a home in her, for the rest of all my days. this is the price of being the idealist/dreamer/lover, always seeking to build even if the materials for the building aren't quite there. as lofty as my aim claims to be, this will pretty much always be true. 

one day, inshaAllah one day, my beloved and i find the Shade of all shades, to cover all our temporal concerns over as if they never were, that we find our rest and repose and revival in the most beautiful of places, ameen

 

Instilled

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

It was just one week ago, when some avenues seemed closed or harder still to open, when she tried again to reach my soul, intently or instinct, either was beautiful to behold, of a two seeking to be one, simply to be whole. I would sear the memory as deep down as I could, just to remember the focus that she gave, unifying all of me, though it is not an easy road to pave. Therein my Gift, so much just for me to savor, finding bits and pieces, of a puzzle long thought unreachable in life for ever. A riddle she remains, some things I think I perceive, I analyze in vain, then recalling I must let go, of what is not yet for me to know. Not all the world's folk see as I might, not all dwell, as long as birds on a nest, waiting for an egg I've not seen to hatch, such an intertwining takes time to gel, time, like a bell, heard so oft ringing in my ears, reminder of both now and Then. 

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

 truth be told, the road is pretty freaking long. maybe the one I'd walk, the longest of them all, for it has the most waiting and grand plans at its end. few things from this life remain as they were, and while I know this is a just a property of dunya, it doesn't always make the pill easier to swallow. from myself is the easy part. I can often try to do better for others, especially the ones I love. if that part won't jive, then at least I can try to ensure my evil is prevented from everyone else. but what about things from others? that is where the change always hits unpredictably. I can never ask even my beloved or family to see things the way I do, to respond how I might choose. regardless of what I find from anyone else, my reply or reaction has to find decency. if this seems like a one-way prism, it very much can be. light like the kind that fuels me is so preciously rare in life, and the more one comes to know and of people, the more scarce it seems to get. I want often to be closer to my beloved, but distance and circumstance just keep working their way in. the ones whom I would absolutely love to see smiles and laughter from, they are the busiest or farthest from me. if this sounds sappy..that's because it is. alas, for one such as me to find resonance in a "cheesy" Bollywood song. but real is real. if another could feel what I felt, then from it all that matters is knowing a pair of souls that found comfort in each other and wanted not to part. I couldn't imagine a notion more human than that. and truly, I find myself ever more human the older I get. 

in regards to expansions and contractions of the beating organ, there is only one option for me: to let it keep growing for the rest of my existence, no matter what. may my Rabb adorn every step of my road with ease, ameen.

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

some revelations don't strike at sudden, rather a bit longer in the making. not always a Moon can be fullest or brightest, maybe the clouds won't let light through, or maybe time keeps it a bit duller and rusted, so what it could have reflected instead turns acidic or twisted, a reality more bitter than true. I wish my reasons and hopes, my interstellar pull and gravity would distances close, not just for selfishnesses but for something good always chose. 

even if my Rabb would so decree, for my beacons to be tested to limits and extremes, that all I found equaled not what I knew they could be, neither would aims change, nor my path alter from the course He laid. a few words from my Gift, the doldrums from the day so easily lift, though an ocean between, her voice my mind repeats, as if she were mere inches away from me. so it is for worldly provision, helping to stay steady, when other pieces of existence waver or appear not quite ready, for the submission of a shore to waves coming inevitably.

long have I asked to meet my End, sooner the better so I imagine, but His will alone keeps me living, pushing forward, breathing, reaching upward, seeking, such is the Pinnacle, ever beyond my ability but always encompassed by His permission. 

Oh life, you are such melodramatic sorrow, bitter or sweet, every moment you would lull me into thinking it's all ending or beginning, when my truth resides solely in Tomorrow. I choose Him and would do so forever, 'tis the only road that ends with me and my Love together.

 

detour

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

So in Marrakech we saw this Bollywood film, Simmba. 

Me? Bollywood? Same sentence?? This truly blows the mind. I have no explanation, except to say that I have no idea how this journey for my dream will go. Even if it happens to detour through Bollywood.

Perhaps even stranger, I liked the movie. And even more unbelievable than that, I liked its songs. And one song in particular...what can I say of it? It can only speak for itself.

 

Returns

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

Alhamdulillah, back from second trip to see my Gift. It's not easy crossing so many boundaries in a relationship, but worth it to see the glimpses of potential and inshaAllah the fruits of that persistence down the road.

A few words to encapsulate what resulted, written on the plane ride back.

-

I could describe her scent, her touch, or the softness of her skin, but none of these would make her blush, for she is not quite the girlish girl, rather the woman a shade more rough. Of polishes and edges, not quite restrained in her directness, not the heart of a poet, but the beauty of a tigress. Somewhere between our selves the balance awaits, for me to find and try make matters straight, I know not how long this task might take, perhaps the rest of all my earthly days, but for all the promises I would hold, I hope He fulfills all my dreams in all their ways; ameen.  

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

maybe some day, when i've saved the world...just kidding..

maybe some day, when i've saved my self...just kiddin..

maybe one day, 

when He's kept me whole

and accepts my soul,

is that Day

when i rest in peace.

i know my future is His, whatever i find, He owns,

so when i've foreseen some possibility

that brings me to my knees

i'm that much closer to sujood, 

the only place i can be. 

oh Allah, i can't ever save my self, let alone those i love, i can't forestall evil or decay, i alone can be no help, You are not just my Sustainer, but You are theirs as well. if You guide us not, there's nothing of worth to find, so i beg Your aid for always, that You protect my beloved and ummah mine. ameen

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

heyyy little dude of the same name, how much you've grown since I saw you last, big beautiful eyes peering wide, cheeks perfect and pudgy, a nephew with an uncle he doesn't know he has. wish I could hold you now, make you giggle and laugh, even if it turns out that I can't, you'll still be loved, from a distance then. so much ahead, so many things to learn, I hope your aunt stays near you always, to remind and console, as things will change, but khair a constant you always know. 

May our Rabb protect and guide you forever, a source of good wherever you go and for whomever you meet, ameen. 

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

what a year it was, laden with so many blessings, if I began to count them, never would I find their ending. from beacons burning brighter than ever, to life's provision found inside the most unlikely treasure, this time was so much more than I could have wished, finding inside the difficulties of life, so many reasons to count toward bliss. I have no repayment for my Rabb, His gifts are too great, my being compared, but a wisp upon the wind. still, lean on Him I must, it was He Who gave me my Sun and Moon, in orbits firm and built on trust, that always might love prove to be a guide, a means of lifting higher towards the greatest End: His Paradise. and what to say of she who He made my wife? common eyes might find there no prize, but resting her soul inside, just one to settle my ocean and still its tides, the most subtle Gift for one such as i.

patience is my course, to let matters find their straightest road, forging from each moment, things to ease their load, to bring none the slightest pain, to hold no enmity or grudge, rather one to lighten and inspire, for all of my beloved.